Pet
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: The hunt wasn't going well, and there was something just a little off about the vampire that Sam was pretty sure had Dean in her snare…


**Title:** Pet

**Prompter:** lolaann1

**Prompt (For H/C Bingo)*Round 3*:** bites

**Warnings:** Light season 8 spoilers for Supernatural, light violence

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire slayer or any related characters. SPN belongs to Kripke, and Buffy belongs to Whedon. No money made here.

**Author's Notes:** Written for lolann1 for wishlist-fic. I also used this prompt to cover my hc-bingo square, bite. I hope she enjoys what I've written for her! She's also got a Buffy/Dean coming to her. (I'll get to it ASAP, I swear! LOL And I promise it won't be used for hurt/comfort bingo purposes.) The setting for this is Post S7 of Buffy… and somewhere in early season eight, I think, for Supernatural. Nothing major is mentioned as far as Supernatural is concerned… but if you know absolutely nothing about what's going on in the very beginning of season 8, consider yourselves warned. _P.S.-This story was written and posted on my livejournal ages ago... I'm just really behind on my postings. Here's my attempt to catch up!_

* * *

**Pet**

"Now, now, my precious little pet," she said, circling around Dean as he lay, staring up dazedly at her from his place on the cold, concrete floor, "we'll have fun soon enough. But you've been a bad little dolly, and you have to be punished."

Dean groaned. This vampire—or whatever she was, since he didn't remember any vampire he'd ever met having a face that morphed into a bumpy and rigid mess—was a few fries short of a Happy Meal, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to know what qualified as "fun" for her. After all, he was pretty sure he had already endured at least some of his punishment.

His body ached as he lifted his hand to his neck, feeling a mixture of wetness and a crusty substance. Well, the bite she had given him was healing up. Dean was going to count that in the "win" column. However, the dark haired woman with the weird British accent was kneeling over him. She pressed a finger to his lips, the tip of her crimson painted fingernail touching the tip of his nose.

"Ssh, ssh. Mummy won't hurt you for long. Just until she isn't hungry anymore," she said.

And her face morphed into that bumpy state, and Dean felt his body tense. He already knew what was coming. She went for the throat, just like some rabid dog, and the elder Winchester cried out with the pain that coursed through him. He could feel the bite ripping open again, his own blood running down his neck. His vision began to blur, and just when he was sure he was about to black out, she pulled away.

"There, there," she said, pulling away and licking his blood from her lips. Her face morphed back to normal as she gazed down at him, adding, "Drusilla will take care of you."

#

"I'm coming, Dean," Sam muttered aloud, the first time he had let the thought escape.

He knew it was clichéd, even cheesy, to be thinking those same three words over and over—in between trying to figure out _where_ Dean was—but they brought him a sort of comfort. He _was_ coming for his brother, and he knew that Dean would know that. Or, at least, that's what he hoped.

The hunt was supposed to have been simple. A vampire who was killing young children in playgrounds. Find the vamp, gank the vamp, end of day. They had come equipped with the usual weapons, including dead man's blood. However, when they had come face-to-face with the vampire who called herself Drusilla, they were met with a nasty shock.

She was crazy. Absolutely bat-shit. And dead man's blood had had no effect on her. And when she was ready to feed, her face changed into some horrific version of itself. Of course, a fight had followed, but the Winchesters had underestimated this so-called vampire. She had looked thin, waif-like… like a good puff of air would have knocked her over. But this was not the case. The moment Sam had rushed her, she had thrown him all the way from the jungle gym to the parking lot. By the time he had gotten back to the park, Dean and Drusilla were gone.

Two thoughts had hit Sam at once: "not again" and "oh no." Because was that even a vampire they had just snatched his brother? He had not had a lot of time to think about it. Drusilla seemed the playful type with her victims—considering what was left of those poor kids—and Sam had no earthly idea where his brother was. So, now in the Impala, he was doing the only thing he could think to do… track the vampire's whereabouts based on where the victims had been found. So far, he had tracked down three abandoned warehouses that look like they had been lived in somewhat.

So this vampire was hopping from place to place… now it was up to Sam to think ahead of it. He pulled into the nearest McDonald's to jack the free Wi-Fi, doing a quick Google search. He found only two other abandoned warehouses, one abandoned factory, and one very large cemetery (just to cover his bases).

"Hold on, Dean," Sam muttered, pulling back out onto the road.

#

Dean groaned, the room spinning around him. The lights seemed bright, and it made him wonder how no one could possible see them on from the outside. He tried to roll onto his side, but his body felt heavier than usual. This was no doubt due to the massive blood loss. His hand went back to his neck, feeling the slickness of it, and pulling it away red. He shook his head, trying to sit up.

"Now, now, pet," Drusilla's voice leaked in from the shadows.

Dean groaned. "Damn it."

"Mummy's taking extra special care of you, dolly. But you mustn't move, or else your stuffing will all fall out."

"You're three kinds of crazy, you know that?" Dean managed to quip, despite the insane need to vomit.

Drusilla lowered herself into his line of sight, her dark hair brushing his face as she maneuvered around the tightness of her crimson dress. She playfully tweaked his nose, stretching her equally red lips into a wide smile.

"Play nice, or else Mummy will have to beat the poor pet," she said.

Dean's lips parted, about to let loose any number of insults, when he stopped. He was dangerously low on blood, and although she had not shared any of her own with him, he knew that if he took any more feedings his life would be reduced to minutes instead of years… and she might go ahead with her plans.

Because he knew. He knew that she intended to make him a monster. He had been on this end of the deal before.

Drusilla's face suddenly downturned as she clicked her tongue in sympathy. She lifted his right arm, pulling up the sleeve of his jacket and the shirt underneath to reveal his wrist.

"You've been a bad boy," she said, her lips dancing right over where his vein pressed against his skin.

"I haven't done anything except lay here, you crazy bitch," Dean snapped.

"Naughty, naughty. You tried to kill Mummy the other night, when all she wanted to do was play and feast."

Her body seemed to sway as she muttered "play and feast" over and over a few more times. This vampire was getting crazier by the minute. Then, her dark eyes flew up to the ceiling, a blissful smile on her face.

"The stars sing of you," she moaned.

This wasn't the first time she had mentioned stars. The last six or seven had ended with another bite to his neck—both sides, his left arm, his torso… there were only so many other places she could feed from him.

"They beg me to wait… a child of destiny… like me. But I'm so impatient to have my dolly," she said.

Her face morphed again, and she yanked Dean's arm up to her mouth, biting deeply into his wrist. He yelled, crying out any number of curse words. He wanted to jerk away, but her teeth were still in him… he really couldn't afford any more damage. He needed out of this godforsaken place—wherever he was—and fast.

Almost on cue, a gunshot ricocheted off some metal beam above them. Drusilla broke her grip on Dean, leaping to her feet with a high-pitched whine.

"No, no, _no_! I don't want my pet taken away! I've been a good girl!" she screamed into the distance.

Dean summoned all his strength to roll over, his eyes landing on the tall figure of his brother rushing toward him fast. He was armed with their standard sawed-off, still raised at the ready. Drusilla leapt over Dean, rushing the other Winchester. But Sam was ready, a flask open at his side as he flung the contents at the vampire woman. She hissed as smoke curled off of her body, and she stumbled back. As soon as she had her face cleared of the holy water, she hissed up at Sam.

"Such a mean little boy. I don't want to play with you anymore," she huffed.

"That's fine by me," Sam snapped back, squeezing the trigger of the gun.

The round hit the woman just off to the left of the heart, and she screamed with the pain of it. She whirled on her heel, whining almost to the point of sobbing—like a child faking a tantrum to get their way—and ran off into the distance.

"Go after her," Dean ordered as Sam knelt down.

But Sam's face was tight with worry. Apparently Dean was worse off than he even knew.

"Gotta get you to a hospital," Sam said, hooking an arm underneath his brother.

"No," Dean said, trying to aid Sam in getting him to his own feet as much as he could. "Go gank the bitch."

"Dean… you'll die. We're going, end of discussion."

#

Dean had lost consciousness somewhere on the way to the local hospital, and that had scared the shit out of Sam. That vampire had taken a lot of blood from him, and he didn't know if she had fed him any of hers.

"Hold on," Sam called into the backseat as he roared into the emergency room entrance of the hospital.

He had a team of nurses outside in seconds, and Dean was admitted instantly. There were a handful of agonizing moments when Sam wasn't sure what was happening—no one would let him see his brother. He took a seat in the waiting room, his breath feeling knocked out of him. Thoughts similar to the trip into the veterinarian's office he had taken right after Dean had "died" began to play through his mind, all of them surrounding the idea that he didn't want to deal with death. He didn't want to lose another life… not after so many others had gone before.

Dean _needed_ be all right. He didn't want to lose him… not after just getting him back. Yeah, sure, Dean was pissed at him for not searching. Not trying to find him while he was in Purgatory… but Sam could make that right. He could. If Dean would only live.

Finally, a doctor emerged, and informed Sam, much to his relief, that after several blood transfusions, his brother would be just fine. They led Sam back into the emergency room, after telling him that Dean would stay at least one night with them.

"How did your brother receive all theses wounds?" the doctor—Doctor Ryle, as he had introduced himself as—asked, just before letting him beyond the veiled section they stood in front of.

"Uh, um… animal attack," Sam said, almost flailing for the words.

There was a moment, albeit brief, where Sam could see the disbelief in Ryle's eyes. But he nodded after a moment, gently pulling the blue cloth curtain aside.

"He's conscious," he said, nodding Sam inside.

Sam thanked the doctor, and moved quickly to Dean's side. Dean grinned up at Sam, but the moment the curtain closed, that smile vanished.

"I told you to go after the vampire, Sam," he snapped.

Sam's eyes were wide. "You would've _died_, Dean! You were almost dead when we got here!"

Dean seemed almost to wave the comment away. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"So, let me get this straight. You don't look for me in Purgatory, but when I _tell_ you to leave me, you decide that I need to be taken care of first?"

Sam pursed his lips. "Dean. I thought you were dead, when you in Purgatory."

"You should've ganked the vampire," the eldest Winchester said, stubbornly.

Sam sighed, pulling up the nearby stool so that he could be at eye level with his brother. He took a moment, just staring at him, before he sighed once more.

"I didn't want to lose you again," he confessed.

Dean's brow arched. "What?"

"I said I thought you were dead, when you were in Purgatory. And I did. I thought you were gone for good this time. But then you were back. And I know I said I wanted to leave hunting—and I do—but that doesn't mean that I want to see you dead, Dean. You're my brother."

Dean seemed to settle back against his pillows, eyeing Sam closely. He still looked ready to fight, but Sam kept eye contact. He needed Dean to know that he had meant what he said. That the fact that Dean was alive meant everything to him. Finally, the older Winchester nodded.

"Fine. You want to make this one up to me?" he asked.

Sam sighed. "That vampire's probably long gone, Dean."

"I know. That's not what I want you to do."

"Then what?"

"Get me some pie. I heard the doctor say they were keeping me, and hospital food sucks. Get me some pie, and we'll call it even."

Sam couldn't help it. He laughed. Nodding, he stood.

"Fine. I'll be back in a minute."

Dean nodded, and Sam made his way out to the Impala. As he climbed inside the driver's seat, he still couldn't wipe the relieved smile off his face. Near-death experience or not, a year in Purgatory or not, at least there was always some parts of his brother he could count on always being there. Even if it was just his love for pie. Some things would never change, and that was just fine with Sam.

#

Drusilla watched Sam pull out of the hospital parking lot, her arms crossed. She moaned, rocking on her feet as he glared upward at the night sky.

"My pet is gone… He took my pet," she said, muttering it low.

But the stars were whispering to her, and their normally tinkling voices were harsh. She pressed her hands over her ears, whining and shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she said. "I know I mustn't hurt my dolly. I don't know why I'm such a bad girl. Please… please, not the cane."

The stars seemed satisfied with this answer as their voices quieted. She sighed with the relief of it, her lips pouting. She bounced in place for a moment, trying her best to be a good little girl. But she so wanted her dolly.

"One day?" Drusilla asked suddenly, her eyes skyward. "I can have him one day?"

The stars answered, and she smiled, turning on her heel. She seemed to dance as she walked away, humming a little tune. The stars had made their promise now. She would have her pet again one day… but first, he had things to do.

"A child of destiny," she sing-songed. "Just like me."


End file.
